


The Sun Kissing the Waves

by beta_cygni



Category: Chris Hemsworth - Fandom, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, hiddlesworth - Fandom
Genre: Eventual Smut, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Hiddlesworth, M/M, Protective Chris, articulate British merman, lifeguard!Chris, mermaid au, merman!Tom, obvious mobility issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 13:02:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9236306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beta_cygni/pseuds/beta_cygni
Summary: Chris feared that Tom was suffering a sunstroke. This would explain his bizarre behaviour. Getting him out of the water and heat was imperative.“I have to stay here, Chris.” Tom said, shaking his head.“Why?” Chris exclaimed, bewildered “What’s wrong? You’re kind of freaking me out a bit…”"I... I can't walk."





	

Mid-afternoon sun was hammering down on the beach when Chris began applying his second layer of sunscreen of the day. He hadn’t been in the water much, but sweating alone had drenched his skin and the parasol hooked to his lifeguard chair offered no help against the glare off of burning white sand and surf.

This was his element, he knew how to contend with it. He had been thrilled to secure this job to supplement his student loan. Even though this was summer, he was thankful to be saving for the coming semesters while spending his days away from stuffy, air-conditioned offices. It wasn’t a high-paying job, but along with a low-maintenance living, it was sufficient. It also came with numerous perks: Plenty of opportunities for enjoying sun and sea, great discounts on food from the little beachfront cantina- the owner insistent on keeping 'her' lifeguards well-fed, being mostly surrounded by people happily enjoying the outdoors.

He was rearranging his blonde hair into a loose bun when his heart skipped a beat. His entire body tensed with focused alarm.

His trained eye had caught a lone figure and the telltale signs of a potential drowning. There were no mad flailing or yelling; just someone’s head bobbing silently, barely above water.

Grasping the buoy hooked to the chair, Chris leaped out of his seat to the sand below. In a few running strides, he had reached the water and flung himself into a powerful dive towards the victim. As he broke the surface again and stroked towards it, the head, a young man's, abruptly jerked up. Chris saw him quickly backing away from his approach, prompting Chris to slow to a stop and shout:

"Can you speak?"

The man looked dismayed, his blue eyes open wide, but his face was well above water now, his shoulders nearly peaking out. He was clearly in control of his swimming.

"Y... Yes..." He stammered back.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes... I'm sorry."

Chris, relieved, waved a hand out of water.

"No problem, mate. Just keeping an eye out." He flashed a grin which the man returned sheepishly.

As he made his way back, Chris received several grateful smiles from swimmers and a few wolf-whistles from a small group of teens clustered on a picnic blanket. Climbing up his ladder, he glanced back towards the man he hadn't saved. He had swam even further from the beach, probably embarrassed by the sudden intervention. He must have been a quiet type who didn't like to make, well, waves. He had appeared close to Chris’ age, perhaps also a student.

Throughout the rest of the day, out of idle curiosity, Chris found himself repeatedly checking on the stranger. He was still in the water, swimming back and forth, or floating still, always keeping good distance from the shore.

There was something curious about this. Was it some kind of endurance training? As the sun began its descent and Chris’ shift was coming to an end, only a few people remained on the beach yet he could still see the man among the waves, giving no sign of being ready to come out. Chris shrugged it off. Lifeguard duty was over for the day and the swimmer, though young, was evidently an adult and responsible for his own safety.

As he gathered his things and walked away, Chris noticed the stranger looking at him. Chris waved. After a moment, he saw the swimmer’s hand waving back; a shy, faint gesture. Before he clambered into the small, beaten-down truck he had recently bought off a friend’s dad, Chris glanced out one last time to the water.

The stranger had disappeared.

****

The next day, as Chris took his seat in the chair, he couldn’t help scanning the sea for a familiar face- or rather, head. He was scoffing at himself for being so invested in a complete stranger, but the young man’s sudden disappearance the night before had left him unsettled.

A distressed whine from a child caught his attention as a beach ball was tossed too far into the deeper water. The boy’s mother was striding towards the sea to retrieve it when a swimmer surfaced near the ball and pushed it back to the child. Chris hadn’t been certain at first glance that it was him, but soon the back and forth swimming in deep water, mostly keeping clear from the other bathers, was unmistakable.

Chris felt a mix of relief and interest. He also couldn’t shake the impression that the man kept gazing back at him. He gave him a discreet thumbs-up, as thanks for helping the kid but also to test whether the stranger was truly paying him any attention.

Chris smirked when he got another small wave in return. The endurance swimmer may have been shy but he seemed friendly enough.

During lunch break, Chris quickly ate the sandwich he had packed, then decided to go for a dip to cool off.

Perhaps he could even find out what the deal was with the mysterious bather.

The cool water was pleasant on his well-sunned skin as he dove in. He swan idly for a moment before spotting the young man again. He began stroking towards him and the man paused his own swimming, staring back at Chris. Chris noticed a puzzled look on his face.

“Hey, no worries; not trying to save you today.” He jested with a friendly wink.

The man broke into a chuckle and the most luminous of smiles. He looked as young as Chris remembered from their first encounter; perhaps nineteen or twenty. His hair had dried in the sun; messy blond curls with hints of copper. His wide eyes and gently arched brows gave his fair face a sweet, candid quality.

"You sure swim a lot."

Chris said.

The man looked down shyly.

"You swim very well." He returned.

"I pretty much grew up in the water," Chris shrugged, "Almost swam before I walked. It's easy when living so close to the sea. You live around here?"

"I... yes..." The man nodded evasively, blue eyes flicking away to the horizon before trailing off, "Are you here every day?"

"Almost." Chris laughed, "I work here, but if there are some good waves to catch, I'm in the water for sure. There are some better spots too."

“For… waves?”

“Well, for surfing, y’know?” Chris made a sliding motion with his hand over the water.

“Oh, right... I believe I’ve seen it…”

For the first time, Chris noticed the man’s foreign lilt.

“Hey, you're from England, right?”

“I… Yes, I am.” The man blinked in surprise but kept smiling and Chris was relieved that he seemed pleased rather than annoyed by his open guessing. 

“Great! Are you just visiting or staying for good?” 

“I think so... I mean, staying. I’d like to stay.”

Chris found himself glad to hear it; perhaps they would have more opportunities to hang out. Despite being bashful, the young man was unquestionably charming.

“Well, I gotta head back; break’s over.” He turned to swim to shore but shot back to his new friend “By the way, name’s Chris. Yours?”

“I’m- I… Thomas…”

“Tom,” Chris grinned as he back-stroked away, “I’ll see you later.”

Tom smiled back brightly.

Once again, Tom spent the rest of the day ceaselessly treading water along the beach. Chris ought to have asked about this, whether he was training for some championship. Even on a fantastic surfing day, Chris never stayed in the water this long without a break. Tom must have been ravenous going home at night after such a workout. Chris regretted not having offered him some lunch earlier.

Perhaps he’d be up for grabbing a bite for supper...

Instead of heading for his truck, Chris made his way back into the water, trying to act as nonchalant as possible since he suddenly felt a little silly the instant Tom’s eyes met his again. He hoped he wasn’t being overbearing or creepy, but Tom still smiled at him as brightly as ever.

“Hi!” Chris greeted,”So, uh… Wow; do you ever get tired?”

Tom laughed timidly but dismissed the question, “Are you leaving?” 

Chris vaguely thought that Tom may have been blushing. It made the blue of his eyes even more brilliant, and speaking a bit harder for Chris.

“Yeah, but, well... I might go grab some food first. And I thought…”

It was a brief flash, but a wince suddenly narrowed Tom’s eyes. Then Chris realized something: Tom was truly red-faced; alarmingly so. 

“Hey,” He said, all nerves forgotten, ”Are you alright? You look really flushed...”

“Yes… it’s just stinging a bit.” Tom assured, though he grimaced as he sank his shoulders deeper under water.

“Oh shit, you’re burned?” Chris swam closer to inspect the lobster-hued patches on Tom’s face and shoulders more clearly. He frowned “You shouldn’t be still out here; it looks pretty raw.”

“Oh, well; It’ll be fine. I’m just not used to this much sun.”

“No kidding, this ain’t England; you’re broiling. C’mon, let’s find you some shade.”

Chris began swimming towards the shore but Tom didn’t follow.

“There’s really no need; It’ll be dark soon.” He said which made Chris turn and frown incredulously.

“There’s need, mate. This could get blistered, or infected. Come on; did you drive? Where do you live?”

Tom had completely lost his smile. He looked frightened, which worried Chris in ways he couldn’t explain.

“I have to stay here, Chris.” Tom said, shaking his head.

“Why?” Chris exclaimed, bewildered “What’s wrong? You’re kind of freaking me out a bit…”

Tom now looked frightened and contrite.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry,” Chris moaned, “Just get out of the water; training be damned, or whatever…” 

"I... I can't walk."

The statement was so unexpected that Chris struggled with his next thoughts.

"What? You mean... You're..." He stammered, seeking the proper words, "You have a disability?"

"Um... No," Tom replied hesitantly, "I just... stay in the water. I can just... swim."

"But, if you can get in here, you can get out, right?"

“Well… I..."

"Listen, this is dangerous. It could be severe burns; and the heat might not be too good to you in the first place."

Chris feared that Tom was suffering a sunstroke. This would explain his bizarre words and behaviour. Getting him out of the water and heat was imperative.

Tom’s gaze darted to the dozen people lingering on the beach. He sighed and looked at Chris with pleading eyes.

“I certainly can’t get out _now_ …”

Chris realized then that Tom’s apparent terror at leaving the water couldn’t be entirely explained by some temporary delirium. He had never seen Tom much below the shoulders and it was becoming evident that Tom had been cautiously maintaining it that way, always remaining in the deeper, murky waters. Perhaps an injury or condition made him painfully self-conscious? Whatever the issue, Chris had to help him override it and accept treatment for his sun exposure.

“Tom, it’ll be alright; whatever the problem is with… I don’t know; your legs? Whatever it is I’ll help you out. I’m not worried about that at all. It’s my job to help people. I can’t leave you here alone and all burnt-up. Please just let me help.”

Tom gravely pondered his words. He worried his lip.

“I really shouldn’t show anyone…” He whispered, almost to himself.

He fixed Chris with anxious eyes a while longer before slowly leaning back onto the water, allowing his body to float upwards towards the surface. Emerging gradually from the cloudy depths, Chris saw a lean chest and a narrow waist. Then a silvery flash caught his eye; swimming trunks? No, it was Tom’s skin, just below the hips, dusted with shiny flecks. At last Tom was nearly floating flat onto his back, his lower body forming a ghostly image under a few inches of water. 

Chris could not think at all. He only stared at the long, shimmering _tail_.

There was a moment of silence.

“Okay. Right.” Chris said at last.

Tom stared at him with rueful eyes.

“Sorry…” He said quietly.

This snapped Chris’ frozen mind into some sort of focus.

“Uh... Why?” He huffed, “You don’t have to be sorry.” 

“Are you okay? Is... is it okay?”

“Yeah, sure... I mean I get the whole _no walking_ thing now.” Chris chuckled nervously.

As another long pause was stretching, Tom began gently swishing his tail, making himself sway from side to side, too tense to remain still. He would have been shuffling on his feet, had he had any.

At last Chris let out a steadying breath.

“So… Are you going to, like, shrivel up and die if you come out?”

“N- No,” Tom answered “As long as I don’t get too dehydrated; I suppose.”

Chris turned to fix the beach pensively. Tom’s fish-half was a bit too overwhelming for the time being, so he dismissed it, concentrating instead on problem-solving and how to discreetly get him to safety. He did pride himself in his capacity to remain collected in a crisis.

“Okay,” He said, pointing in the distance, “You’ll have to meet me around that way, just past the large boulders. There’s no beach there so it should be deserted. I’ll bring my truck around… Uh, you know what a truck is?”

“Yes.” Tom affirmed.

Once more Chris opted to ignore the matter as to how Tom knew about trucks. There was already a flood of questions he could launch into if he breached that dam. Now wasn’t the time.

“Alright. I’ll meet you there.” He nodded decisively to Tom and swam to shore. As he grabbed his stuff and jogged to the truck, he saw that Tom had already vanished out of sight. Chris only hoped that the designated spot would be secluded enough.

It took him ten minutes to drive along the rough, sandy path, then carefully maneuver over a few grassy dunes. When he walked out to the water, Tom’s head surfaced. As Chris approached him, he noticed that Tom looked apprehensive again, fixing him intently.

“You... didn’t tell anyone?” Tom asked.

“No; I mean that’s the whole point of coming out here.”

Tom briefly closed his eyes, steeling himself for what would come next. Chris suddenly understood.

“Hey,” He said kindly, “Don’t worry; I’m not going to get you in any trouble. I’m just gonna smear a whole lot of aloe on your face. You know what’s aloe?”

“Um… No.”

“Good. That makes some sense to me. Alright, well, just… hop on, I guess.”

Chris nodded as he extended his arms between himself and Tom, who blinked a few times before cautiously moving closer.

“Are… Are you sure?” He stammered as he floated just above Chris’ arms, hesitantly reaching his hands around Chris’ shoulders.

“Yeah; all good…” Chris steadied himself and lifted Tom above water. 

Tom was not _little_. Despite his slender build, he was tall, all lean muscles, and his tail alone was probably close to five feet long. It added up to a clumsy haul as Chris avoided slipping or tripping over the rocky, uneven shore. Tom held on stiffly, trying his best not to be dead weight.

“This is… so strange.” He let out on an anxious breath.

Chris saw a certain irony in that of the two of them, it was the merman who was pointing out the oddness of the situation.

He had parked as close as possible to the water’s edge and only had to carry Tom over a few feet of rocks and weeds. Nonetheless, he couldn’t keep at bay the fear that someone might appear out of nowhere and spot them.

Art project. This is what he would claim if they did. This was an art project for... film school. After all, it was infinitely more plausible than actually smuggling a mermaid on land.

Once Tom was installed in the front passenger seat, Chris made sure all tail fins were properly tucked inside before shutting the door.

Framed by the open window, Tom looked so _normal_ , though at once not unremarkable. He appeared every bit like a tall, very alluring… human.

From Chris’ seat at the wheel, the scene was more otherworldly; Tom’s long tail twisting and slightly cramped in the tight confines of the passenger seat.

Chris considered this a moment before reaching for a large beach towel in the back of the truck. He handed it to Tom while unfolding it.

“You’d better drape it over… y’know, just to make sure.”

Tom understood and wrapped the towel around his tail, which only left a few inches of fin spilling on the floor uncovered, though this was mostly out of sight. 

Chris tried not thinking that Tom now looked like a tall, alluring _nude_ guy under the towel. However, on second thought, he had been _more_ nude before. A tail surely did not count as clothing. He shook his head again at the general predicament and started the engine.

They remained silent as Chris drove, going unusually slow- but not too slow- as to not risk attracting attention. Tom was gazing about through the windows at the passing landscape. Eventually, he spoke quietly.

“Thank you.”

Chris stirred.

“Oh- Uh… For what? I didn’t do anything much… yet… Y’know.” 

“For not… I don’t know; _screaming_ ; or anything.”

Chris himself was somewhat impressed that he wasn’t more shocked, or rather by how well his brain was dealing with the shock; just shoving it way back in the low-priority bin. He was quite nervous but he couldn’t discern how much of it was from Tom’s _tail_ and how much was from just _Tom_.

“Oh; well… s’okay, no biggie.” He mumbled, acutely concentrating on the road.

His eyes flicked to Tom who looked rather uncomfortable, cramped and now delicately brushing his fingers against the angry red flesh on his brow and cheeks.

“Don’t worry,” Chris added, “We’re almost there.”

It wasn’t until they rolled into the driveway of the small bungalow he was renting that Chris pondered the next matter: It was critical to be covert. Bridal-carrying a tall man with a sparkly tail- or without for that matter- through the front door did not meet that criterion.

“Shit…” Chris muttered as he craned his neck, evaluating how many neighbours had a clear line of sight.

“I can wait here until it gets dark.” Tom offered as he deduced the problem.

Chris turned to him and sighed.

“Might as well shove you in an oven. You really don’t get this whole heat exposure thing, do you?”

He couldn’t help the picture of grilled salmon steaks that popped in his head and felt horrible for it. 

“Gimme a second…” He told Tom as he exited the truck and walked to the wooden fence that enclosed his small backyard. He opened the gate and made a quick assessment of its width before running back.

He silently prayed as he slowly drove the truck through the opening, messing up the grass but slipping out of sight beyond the fence.

“Awesome.” He let out in relief.

Within minutes, Tom was sitting on the living room couch, looking a bit dazed over his new surroundings, while Chris retrieved a bottle of aloe vera lotion from the bathroom.

He hesitated some distance away before approaching Tom as non-threateningly as possible. He sat at the very edge of the couch, making sure not to brush or disturb the long tail in any way. It was one thing to have carried it in the midst of emergency, it was another to be _lounging_ alongside it. Who knew what the etiquette was on that? He didn’t want to do anything bad by accident. Meanwhile Tom stared at him with his huge, searching eyes. Chris diverted them away from himself by waving the green plastic bottle.

“This might sting a bit at first but it’s going to help a lot.”

He opened one hand, indicating to Tom to mirror him and he squeezed a dollop of cool, bluish gel in Tom’s palm. Chris vaguely mimed the rest:

“So… You just… rub this on your skin.”

With knitted brow, Tom warily lifted his gooey hand towards his face, then hesitated, lowered his face towards it to inspect it, then awkwardly dipped his chin in, spilling drops of aloe gel down his chest. He jolted upright.

“Ehe! It’s cold!” He half-shrieked, half-chuckled.

“Well that’s the idea: Put it on the burns…” Chris couldn’t help but grin as well. This time he squirted some gel on his own fingers and reached for Tom’s cheeks, lightly daubing it.

Tom flinched slightly, more from surprise than pain, then he closed his eyes as he let Chris tend to the burns.

“That… feels good…” He sighed, smiling.

“So, uh, can I… ask a few things?” Chris said and Tom nodded graciously.

“Yes, of course.” 

“Uh, okay… Can you breathe under water?”

Chris himself cringed a bit that this was the first question- however trite- to come out, but it was as good a place to break the ice as any and Tom answered without qualms; although he chuckled again.

“No; I have to surface to breathe.”

“Huh. How long can you stay underwater?”

“I’m not sure… I only have to surface three or four times a night, if I’m sleeping…”

Chris surmised that it meant Tom could remain up to a couple of hours submerged, which definitely put his own five minutes to shame.

“But then… Why didn’t you stay underwater back at the beach? Didn’t you feel the sun was hurting you? I saw you swimming out all day...”

“Oh, well, I was just… _looking_ … I guess I didn’t notice the sun.” Tom said quietly.

“What? Just, looking at people and stuff?”

“Um, yes…”

Chris grabbed the bottle and squirted out more aloe; he could have sworn Tom’s face was getting more red by the second. When he turned back, he met wide blue eyes again as Tom had opened them.

“Thank you.” He repeated earnestly.

“Sheesh, it’s okay,” Chris waved, feeling suddenly embarrassed, “It’s just bloody _lotion_.”

“I’m glad… I’m glad that you’re... nice…”

“You don’t even really know me…” Chris sighed awkwardly, hoping Tom would close his eyes again, or stop... _gushing_.

“But… It’s like you’re not scared of me, or... You’re just kind.”

Despite feeling very much on the spot and flustered, Chris realized that maybe Tom had encountered other people and adverse reactions before. This brought up more questions, more comprehensive than merely how long Tom could hold his breath. He returned Tom’s inquisitive stare before musing:

“You know what? The weirdest thing to me isn’t so much that there are _mermaids_ ; it’s that there are... British mermaids named Thomas.” He smirked, “I mean… is that actually your name?”

He had been on the verge of picturing quaint little hamlets at the bottom of the English channel, where mermaids gathered in the afternoon around buttered scones to drink tea out of… Of course not; it was ludicrous. However Tom would look completely at home enjoying a buttered scone with tea; from the waist up anyway.

“It is the name I was given,” Tom explained, “People like you found me, as a baby.”

“You mean, like... land people?”

“Yes. An elderly fisherman and his wife.”

“They raised you? Like their own kid?”

“In some ways… They took care of me. They never could have their own children so I think they were happy to have found me, at least. They thought that I probably belonged in the ocean, or _to_ the ocean; they didn’t take me away from it, not much. But they made sure I was fine. They taught me lots of things...” He paused, thoughtful, “It was nice.”

“I gather that they’re gone?” Chris asked gently.

Tom nodded.

“A few years ago. About… four or five.”

Chris nodded in turn, taking in all the details of Tom’s background.

“But... What about others like you? I mean, you didn’t just pop into existence out of nowhere. Right?”

Tom sighed and shrugged.

“I found them; the other ones; but they’re not… well, I’m not like them either. My real parents were probably a sea person and a land one. But that wouldn’t have worked out too well.”

“Why not?”

“I stayed with the others for a short while. There were many… conditions. For one, I couldn’t go anywhere near shore. And they stayed mostly in the deeper, dark waters; surfacing was mostly to breathe. They were concerned that I would seek out, you know, more people. I promised, and I tried, but I couldn’t live like them; I was too different. So I left. I just kept going, then I arrived here. It is nice; and shallow enough so I’m pretty safe.”

“Safe? From what?”

“From them; they don’t go in shallower water.”

Chris frowned.

“Whoa, what do you mean? They’d hurt you?”

Tom cringed, as if he regretted saying something upsetting.

“Well, they’d kill me,” He said meekly, “Pretty sure that’s what happened to my real parents.”

Chris’ jaw fell wide open.

“ _Shit_ ; that’s… that’s _horrible_.”

“It’s how they keep hidden; I guess it works…” Tom explained diplomatically.

It was a few more seconds of shock before Chris could reply.

“Oh shit… I get that they’re scared of, you know, _us_ ; I mean, we can be pretty fucked up. But if they go butchering their own kind over it, then what’s the point?”

“I’m sorry…”

“Wh… _No_ , hey, I’m not mad at _you_ ; I’m just… Wow, that _sucks_ , Tom. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

They fell silent again as Chris processed the rest of the information. The craziest thing now was that Tom’s story, Tom _the smiling merman with a silver tail_ , wasn’t even that strange, certainly not nearly as whimsical as it should have been. If anything it was… terribly sad.

He tried to imagine how overwhelming it must have been, alone for years in the vastness, rejected by one kin and wary of the other. There was a real possibility that Tom was the only one of his own kind. In a way, it was wondrous; but mostly it was incredibly lonely.

Chris discreetly observed him; his eyes, so lively, that flickered from intense curiosity, to excitement, to worry so swiftly. At the moment Tom’s interest had landed upon a magazine on the coffee table. He thought that Tom, whoever he was, _whatever_ he was, was really just Tom. He shouldn’t have to be alone, lost or scared.

Not if Chris could help it.

“So, what do you usually eat?” He asked.

“Oh, well, fish… and seaweed, and…”

“Alright,” Chris said heartily as he got up to find takeout brochures, “Sounds like you’ll like sushi.”


End file.
